I was Watching your Eyes
by Kira Kissed Him
Summary: So I was watching your eyes, in case they just might say something.


I WAS WATCHING YOUR EYES.

I still remember the way you first looked at me.

Coldly, unabashedly, a sneer marring and disturbing the charm of your rather effeminate features. There was a cruelty curling your lips, blatant contempt exemplified as you gazed at me in critical analysis. Unsure of what to make of the gangly, silent, and unperturbed redhead with the goggles, and the horizontal stripes. You tilted your head to the side, huffed loudly, abruptly and snarled out a question. "What the fuck are you supposed to be?" I had gazed back, eyes fixated on the wall as I nonchalantly shrugged my shoulders. I never liked to directly look at people, I think you knew that because you kept purposely staring at me with those eyes that were blue - so blue, like perfect cloudless Sunday skies that I vaguely remember from the days when I had a mother and father. "Matt." I had disclosed with an indifferent expression and the mashing of my fingers against the handheld. "Do you always spend your time playing stupid, senseless video games, Matt?" I remember not missing a beat as I continued on in pseudo concentration. "Yes." I can still feel the intensity of your gaze, when I close my eyes it is recollected in one full swoop, the way you smirked in such a beguiling, peremptory manner and a maddening glint was visible in your eyes, one that frightens me even still. Your words echo in my head, pounding against my temple - the silence of that moment as you paused dramatically, eager to capture my attention as I chanced a glance upward and our eyes locked - perpetual skies, against the grass beneath - "That's going to change..."

I can still recall the way you looked at me before you kissed me for the first time. Your eyes were ignited by a flame, not the one they usually retained but there was a striking contrast with this illumination. A sparkle of doubt lingering but being won over by a certain decisive hunger, a yearning as you leaned forward, your silky strands of gold brushing against my cheek as I held my breath. I couldn't close my eyes, even when your lips tentatively touched mine, hesitant at first before immediately becoming bold as you wrapped your arms around my neck and made sure that our eyes stayed lock in that position. I couldn't stop staring at you, because you wouldn't stop watching me, searching me, for a reaction. Our breaths mingled, you bowed your head and pressed your forehead against mine and I stared at the ceiling with dazed eyes. "You're mine." You whispered against my neck, grabbing my chin and forcing me to gaze at you, as if my thoughts could possibly ever stray to anyone but you... "Yes." My breath was let out with the utterance of that word, and I could feel you smiling against my neck. "Good."

I can still see the look in your eyes right before you left. The way you were standing by the window, your mouth a thin line of an expression as I stood in the doorway. Watching you, watch me in the reflection of the glass. We stood suspended in that moment, a rubber band on the verge of snapping, acutely aware that when it did everything would change, would shatter, as you spun around, slowly, oh so slowly - the moment wasn't lost yet - you wavered for a mere second before the resolve in your eyes hardened. A coldness fell across your features and you regarded me coolly, with those eyes, those eyes that seemed to of gained shadows throughout the duration of one night. There was so many that I was bewildered. "I'm leaving." You admonished finally, I could see the wheels in your mind turning so rapidly as you gestured towards your packed bag that lay on the bed in the room we had shared for 4 years. I suppose a look of terror crossed my features for your gaze softened slightly, just enough that you allowed me to wrap my arms around you. "Take me with you." You shook your head and I didn't say anything, I just kissed you - and you returned the kiss viciously, desperately, our lips clinging to one another, chasing away the fears, the reality that we were encased in. All of our what if's, and if only's seeming to be silenced by that kiss as we finally parted, gasping violently for breath and seemingly not aware of anything beyond us, and that room. I could only think of the way your hair always seemed to have an ethereal glow about it when the moon spilled in through the parted shade... and oh god the way you licked your lips right before you would bite into a chocolate bar, and - "I'll see you someday." You said, as you gathered your scant belongings and brushed past me, and walked out the door, as I peered down the corridor, trying to memorize the way you looked when you walk away.

I still shudder at the vacancy in your gaze when we were reunited after nearly three years. Your eyes surveyed me, all at once, not seeming to see me at all as you flicked a stray strand of hair out of your eyes. "Matt." I stood, cigarette dangling from my parted lips, my hand still grasping onto my phone, the one you had somehow managed to summon me on after all this time..."Mello." I muttered, voice raspy as I swallowed and rotated my foot in a circular pattern. You inhaled sharply, and that caught my attention, caught my eye and we stood there amongst the filth, the graffiti embellished buildings, the smell of decay and garbage reaching my nostrils as I focused solely on your surreal silhouette in the darkness. The embers of my cigarette providing me with light as I listened to the advancement of your footsteps, coming closer to me, teasingly at first before you more or less stepped on my toes. "Are you still mine, Matt?" You asked calmly, seemingly apathetic and unaffected by the situation at large, no signs of anticipating a positive response to the question that wasn't really a question at all. I looked up, took a languid drag, gossamer smoke lazily billowing from my parted lips in your direction as I nodded. Your eyes had more shadows in them, but, this time, so did mine. "Always."

I can feel your hands ghosting across my body that first night. We rented a room at a cheap hotel, the TV at those places never works, and the clock was glowing red in the darkness as rain pounded outside our window. You kissed me, there was something unnervingly nostalgic about that kiss, about the way you smiled deviously and removed the lit cigarette from my lips. Your eyes sparkled dangerously as you kissed lower, and lower, peering at me through lowered eyelashes, like old times, as you chuckled darkly, a nuance of sadness deviating the sound as I moaned quietly. My eyes glazed over, seeing nothing, everything, the outline of your hair - and the way our breathing disturbed the silence. Warmth, fiery sensations overwhelming any possibility for sound thought. The entirety of my being intertwined, interwoven, belonging to you as you began to kiss me once more. Silent apologies, and dead regrets lingered in your saliva, in contrast to the ash, and bitterness in mine as I dug my fingernails in your skin and I distantly thought about the way your voice sounded the first time you told me your name was "Mihael." You surveyed me, eyes keen, and alive, like when you were a little boy, as you thrusted, and threw your head back. "I love you." I gasped, distantly wondering where my goggles had been flung in the process. You had made a strange sound, somewhere between a laugh, and a melancholic sigh, as I reached for you, my brain trying to stay clear through the contented fog that was overpowering my senses. "Then don't let me leave you anymore." We both came, screaming.

My last remembrance will be the way you are looking at me right now, right before we part ways.

You to go kidnap Takada, and I, as the convenient decoy in this reckless scheme of yours'. We both know that we are going to die, it's an unspoken agreement that hangs between us as we stand in some remote alleyway, of a side street that seems vaguely familiar. I lean against my car, as you busily examine your motorbike, both of us quiet and painfully aware of the tension that hangs between us. I think that it's going to go on forever until you stand up abruptly, fists clenched, and spinning around to gaze at me with such emotion in your eyes, such anger, hatred, despair, all welling up in the depths of that azure colored iris. You're nearly panting, shaking with the exertion of your turmoil. "Put out that fucking cigarette for god's sake. I am so fucking sick of you smoking, Matt - you should be preparing, you should - " I've been advancing towards you throughout the duration of this speech, since the first word was spoken and by now I have effectively closed the distance as you wearily trail off. Eyes glistening, and your lashes moistening with unshed tears as your mouth opens one last time, but no sound is uttered. "I love you too." I whisper, and I wrap my arms around you in an embrace that cuts off our circulation as you mutter incoherent things in my vest. I close my eyes and deeply inhale the smell of your hair, and your leather jacket, and that damn chocolate that always clings to you. "You're so fucking stupid, why, why are you so - Jesus Christ. " Your incoherent ramblings reach my ears dimly through the onslaught of emotion that's circulating within the recesses of my own mind. "You're taking me with you this time." I respond quietly, and you look up at me and gasp, shaking your head numbly as you grit your teeth in frustration. "Idiot, stupid fucking idiot." I thread my fingers through your hair and smile demurely, as you continue to glower at me, your features working dynamically as we stand here, absorbing the atmosphere, and each other, hoping to preserve and trying our best to relish every second, to genuinely live these last moments to their fullest possible extent.

"I guess this is it." You conclude suddenly, stepping back from me and taking up a defensive stance; arms crossed, and one leg kicking absently at the pavement. "Yeah." I agree, nodding sagely, and fumbling in my pocket for another cigarette. My own little defense mechanism. "I really fucked this up for us." He continues, taking a disgruntled bite of his procured chocolate bar. I inhale, exhale, and regard him placidly. "It's alright, we'll be okay." I watch as he slams his fist down, his volatile, pugnacious temperament flaring up as usual. For some reason, this causes me to smile which just increases his fury. "No Matt, it's not okay, it is not fucking okay at all. This is fucking dangerous shit and we will probably DIE." I shrug, clearly unoffended by the prospect. "I don't care." He stares at me incredulously, "What do you mean you don't care?!" By now he's nearly screaming. "Listen Mello, You and I have more or less walked the same path thus far and as long as it ends here, with us together, it doesn't really concern me." He's quiet for several moments, until he smiles at me a bit roguishly, a bit contemptuously, and quips "that I sure as hell chose an interesting time to find my inner poet." I just grin in response, as he devours the remainder of his chocolate bar, I watching and waiting dutifully until he finishes, leans forward and we share a final kiss. A strand of saliva connecting us as we break apart and he puts on his helmet, and mounts his bike. I turn away as well, and get into the car, leaning out the window and committing this scene as well to memory.

For call it harlequin and romanticized but I always secretly believed that one's life truly does flash before their eyes, truly is showcased up until the point of their death, and my life has always solely consisted of him. I want this perfect goodbye, perfect as perfect gets for us, anyhow, embedded in my memory, seen before my eyes. I want to see him, leather clad hauteur, to hear his snide raucous, young voice in my head, to feel him, to taste his sweet breath, the only thing sweet about him. I flick some excess ash out the window as Mello makes a show of disgust, and I smirk, "I'll be waiting for you at the end, babe." I call out and he turns, the ghost of a smile flickering across his features. "Yeah?" I nod assuredly, "I'm your's, aren't I?" I can see him rolling his eyes through the transparency of the glass obscuring his eyes from my sight, "You plan on being stuck with me forever?" He questions with a soft disbelieving snort. I throw my cigarette down, my hands gripping the steering wheel as my fingers reach for the ignition, my eyes seeking his, always, always seeking his. "Yeah."

End.


End file.
